


Gold Butterflies and Gum on a String

by queenofquiet17



Category: Will & Grace
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, F/F, Original Run, a bit angsty, but there's a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofquiet17/pseuds/queenofquiet17
Summary: “I don’t know, honey. You spend your whole life only getting dealt the bad cards in the deck, at some point you have to just give up and realize this is as far as you’re ever gonna go.”“Well, that’s kinda stupid.”Karen had never heard Grace be so blunt before. “Why’s that?”“Because. Once all the bad cards in the deck are gone, you’re left with all the good ones. So why not wait it out?”Karen never asked for the twists and turns life took her on, never wanted to stay on the path she seemed destined to walk. But every time she looked back on it all, she realized she would gladly go through it again and again. As long as the path always led to Grace.
Relationships: Grace Adler/Karen Walker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	Gold Butterflies and Gum on a String

**Author's Note:**

> I was in no way planning to write this one. I had Beth Hart's ["Favorite Things"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rNsohVGKzE) in my mind for a year, wanting to do something with it because it felt like such a Karen song to me, but I was never able to find an entry point, so I gave up on it for a bit. I don't know how I finally found a way to make this work, but I'm so glad I did.
> 
> A big thank you as always to my Bookworm [disgruntledkittenface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface) for the flails and shouts and encouragement. I love your willingness to come along for the ride when I don't know if the ride is even worth it, and I love you.
> 
> A few lines from "Favorite Things" opens up the story, but other than that, the words are my own.

_**“It’s not the life I thought it would be** _  
_**But I’ll be alright, I know I will be** _  
_**So long to circumstance…”** _

When she was four, it was the butterflies. They were her favorite thing from the second she first saw one in the park on an early morning walk with her father. She had been holding his hand as tightly as she could as they moved along the path. But then a flash of golden yellow wings floated past her, and it was all she needed to become enamored. She broke free from her dad’s grasp and started chasing it like she would follow it anywhere. When he caught up to her and scooped her up into his arms, she started to cry as the butterfly disappeared from her sight. But he always knew how to dry her eyes in no time at all.

“You don’t need to chase butterflies, Karen. We can make them come to us.”

As soon as they got home, he gathered some of the wood and paints he kept in the shed to build a small butterfly house for the yard. He laid down some tarp for Karen to decorate their masterpiece on, letting her splash pinks and blues onto his finished product. He showed her how they could make a butterfly feeder out of a mason jar and a sponge. And they set it up in the front yard so the whole neighborhood could see all the hard work they did. Karen was expecting to see golden wings surrounding the house as soon as they stepped away from it. But after the longest few seconds in the world, nothing happened, and it didn’t seem fair.

“Where’s the butterflies?” she asked, disappointment pulling at her tiny voice.

She liked that she could make her dad laugh even though he should be sad their plan didn’t work. “We have to be patient, peanut,” he said, crouching down to her level. “It takes a little time for beautiful things to come to you.”

It didn’t seem right, having to wait for something good to happen. But he never lied to her before. So she waited. And waited. To this day, she couldn’t tell you how much time had passed. But one morning, she looked out the window and swore she saw something flutter by. She didn’t stop calling out for her dad until he came to the window and picked her up, carried her out the front door so they could see for sure. He moved slowly, telling her in a hushed voice to keep quiet, that if something was by the butterfly house, they didn’t want to scare it away. She could hear the grass rustle underneath his feet as they inched closer and closer. And then she saw them, golden wings just like the ones she saw in the park, moving steadily as the butterfly drank from the feeder. She wanted to reach out, to see if she could know what it felt like to have those wings at her fingertips, but she didn’t want to make it go away.

“Would you look at that?” her dad murmured, his voice blending into the spell that was cast over the morning without breaking it. “It flew all the way here just to say hi to you.”

Karen rested her head on his chest, whispering a hello to it without taking her eyes off of it. She wished they could stay standing there forever. Because it was beautiful. Because it was hers. Because all that waiting was worth it.

Every time she saw a butterfly after that, she thought of him. Even when the years went on without him and time threatened to fade the color out of the rest of her memories, this one would always be vibrant in pink and blue and gold.

When she was nine, it was the way she could pull her gum into the longest, thinnest string Virginia had ever seen. That was her kid sister’s favorite thing, so it became Karen’s favorite thing, too. She never understood why it made Gin laugh so much. But kids could find joy in the most trivial places. And now that they had gone two years without their father--now that their mother kept moving them from town to town, never putting down roots anywhere, trying to escape her mistakes--Karen and Gin needed all the joy they could get. So when she discovered the distraction it provided, when she realized it could take Gin’s mind off of all the things that brought tears to her eyes, it was like she stumbled onto the key that unlocked the world.

Their mother was too busy packing up the home it felt like they just settled into to pay close enough attention to her daughters. In fact, Karen was pretty sure they were supposed to be in their rooms throwing their clothes into the empty boxes Lois had left for them upstairs. But they had finally landed in a town they liked, and they were in no rush to leave it. So they sat together in silence on the floor of the living room, avoiding the inevitable, a fresh piece of Dubble Bubble inside Karen’s cheek as she looked over at her sister and saw the way the weight of the move was pushing down on her shoulders. She wished she had the power to change all of this for the both of them. She wished she could do more than sit there chewing her gum to keep herself from promising Gin that things would get better when she knew they wouldn’t. But she knew wishing for things was pretty pointless. So she leaned her back against the couch and started absentmindedly stretching out the gum in her mouth, not even realizing what she was doing until she heard the small voice next to her.

“Keep going.”

Karen stopped what she was doing and turned to see her sister’s eyes trained on the pink string stretching the short distance between her fingers and her mouth. She didn’t think Gin could possibly be talking about this, until she spoke again. “Come _on,_ keep going. Make it bigger.”

The faint twinkle in Gin’s eye was contagious as Karen started to pull at it again, slowly enough so that it wouldn’t snap, smiling over the way Gin started to giggle more and more the longer her string of gum became. She tried to play it up a bit, crossing her eyes and making faces she knew would elicit a bigger laugh. For a moment, things almost seemed normal. But they must have gotten loud enough to throw a red flag in Lois’ sightline. Because soon enough, she walked into the living room, caught a glimpse of what her girls were doing, and was determined to put an end to it.

“Quit it, Kiki,” she scolded. “That’s not what ladies do with their gum.”

Karen immediately decided that if ladies didn’t ever do the things that could keep Gin from crying, then she didn’t ever want to become one. She stuck the gum back in her mouth, mumbled a half-hearted apology to her mother, and waited until Lois had left the room. She saw the way her little sister instantly grew smaller, darker, sadder. And when she was certain they wouldn’t be interrupted anytime soon, she opened her mouth and started pulling at her gum again, her grin growing wider and wider as the light started coming back to Gin’s eyes.

It was a trick that would work for another year or two before Gin got too old to give into the distraction. She milked it for all it was worth back then. And all these years later, she remembers how it chipped away at her heart the first time Gin sat there, stone faced and unmoved.

When she was sixteen, it was her first car. That powder blue VW Beetle convertible was the love of her life from the moment she found it in the driveway on her birthday. They were strapped for cash for most of the year leading up to this, and she had been expecting to work her ass off for at least the next two to even have a shot at affording the kind of car she truly wanted. She didn’t think she’d find anything waiting for her in that driveway, let alone the brand new beauty that was in front of her, begging her to go on an adventure.

Karen didn’t want to know what kind of scam Lois had to pull in order to pay for that car. So she never asked.

She tried to hold out for as long as she could before giving in and taking the car for a spin. She had two years left before she graduated high school and left whatever town they were living in (hopefully it was still this one) in the dust; she wanted to be around for Gin as long as she possibly could before that happened, and she knew as soon as she got behind the wheel, she would want to drive to the ends of the earth and never come home. But she only made it through breakfast and a couple more gifts before the novelty of sweet sixteen started to wear off and the promise of that first drive made her antsy. And when it became clear that they reached the end of Lois’ birthday plans, Karen grabbed her coat and the keys and told her mom she was going out. She was halfway out the door when she heard her mother’s voice.

“Just be careful, okay? I don’t need you running that thing into a ditch at a hundred miles an hour.”

Karen was convinced she was mistaken when she heard a hint of wariness in her words. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Mom, please, it doesn’t even go that fast.” And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she smirked. “But just to make you feel better, I swear I’ll only take it up to 98, tops.”

It was the kind of quip her mother would normally be proud of. But when she didn’t hear a laugh, she turned around to see just how serious Lois was. It stunned her, seeing Lois like this. Karen knew that, on some level she couldn’t always see, her mother cared about her kids; it was just that most times, she cared more about what her kids could do for her. That was what showed on the surface: what part they could play in her schemes, how much of a shield they could be to save herself from boiling in the hot water she usually found herself in. But this...this was the closest thing to normal Karen had ever experienced with her mom, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She stayed frozen at the door for a minute, waiting for Lois to crack a smile, break the silence, tell her she was only playing around. And when she didn’t, Karen inched closer to her until she could wrap her in a hug.

“Mama, don’t worry,” she said softly as she felt Lois’s arms close in around her. “I’ll be alright, I promise.” She didn’t let go until her mother did. And then she was out the door.

It had been a mistake to give her that car; Lois had to have figured that out pretty quickly. Because the second Karen first got on the road, testing the speed limits and putting the top down just for a minute to feel the wind rush through her hair even though it was February and freezing, she knew she would never have to stay home for longer than she wanted to. As soon as the walls started closing in, as soon as Lois’ life choices started bleeding into her own, as soon as the air got stale and the sounds of their home life got to be too much to bear, she would get in her car and drive. No particular destination in mind. Always wanting to see how far she could go before the gas tank emptied. The further she went on these drives—the further she realized it was possible for her to go—the harder it got to breathe at home.

And then Lois started bringing Bernie around, the new love of her life with a questionable past and a propensity to make Karen uncomfortable whenever he walked into a room, for reasons Karen couldn’t quite explain. Every time she got a minute alone with her mom, Karen would try to tell her what she thought of him. And every time, Lois would tell her not to worry about it, she was thinking too much, he’s not such a bad guy.

It only took a handful of arguments with her mother to reach the breaking point.

It only took ten minutes to pack as much clothing as she could fit into her suitcase and peel out of the driveway.

If Karen felt the inevitability of it in her bones, Lois had to have felt it too; it wasn’t surprising that one day, Karen would drive off and never come back. But it was surprising how long it took for Lois to try looking for her (maybe if she had taken Gin with her like she wanted to, their mother would have been on her trail a lot faster). After a few weeks, she called an aunt on Karen’s dad’s side—the one Karen knew hated Lois, the one she knew she had the best chance with when it came to being taken in—and knew that her daughter was safe and relatively happy. And she left well enough alone from then on, only calling a couple times a year: Karen’s birthday, the occasional Christmas, Mother’s Day when the holiday made her feel a little guilty. It wasn’t what Karen pictured her last years before adulthood to be, but at least things felt a little more stable.

Sometimes, looking back on it, Karen wonders if Lois ever regretted that sweet sixteen gift, now that she knew what her daughter would eventually do with it. But the support checks she sends every month to keep her mother out of her hair do their job spectacularly well; she hasn’t seen her in years.

When she was twenty-three, it was the way Melanie Mitchell kissed her. That was her lifeblood. After college, Karen floated from town to town like she did when she was a kid. Except this time, she wasn’t trying to escape her mother’s mistakes; she was trying to find her perfect fit. Her powder blue Beetle ran out of gas in San Francisco, and she decided to take that as a sign. The next day, she wandered into a tiny used bookstore and a girl who looked like honey--warm brown eyes, warm blonde hair down to her waist, sunkissed skin--walked up to her with the audacity to swipe the Joyce Carol Oates novel she had in her hands and replace it with another one she swore was the author’s best, and she knew she made the right decision.

It happened quickly enough to make her think that maybe there was an exception to her father’s old rule about beautiful things taking their time to come to you. Karen told Melanie she was just passing through, something she didn’t realize would soon become a lie. Melanie found it thrilling to try to hold onto something that could disappear without much warning. Karen realized for the first time that she wanted a girl to hold her. And just like that, Karen packed up the cheap hotel room she landed in and moved into Melanie’s loft with floorboards that creaked every time they moved, so they could have as much time with each other as they could before Karen moved on. Karen wasn’t expecting to fall so hard so fast. But in no time at all, she had gotten so used to sharing her life with this girl that she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t. They fell into a routine instantly. Spending their days on the balcony basking in the sun and smoking cigarettes that tasted like hope. Spending their nights in a whiskey haze, dancing close while the floorboards sang the song they swayed to. Sailing upstairs to the bed every night to commit each other’s bodies to memory.

Kissing. Every chance they got. For as long as they could. Like they would both turn to dust if they ever pulled away. It caught Karen off guard the first time it happened, even though she knew with everything in her that it would happen. Because she had never tasted a kiss like that, one that was sweet and gentle and so full of the future, the revelation of it nearly brought her to her knees. From the very first one, she convinced herself that she would never be able to live without that sensation, that she needed to keep Melanie as close to her as she possibly could. Which was why “Just passing through” quickly turned into a couple of weeks, and then a month, and then another. Which was why (Karen assumed) Melanie never kicked her out, why she held Karen closer with each passing day. Maybe it was a revelation for her, too.

It was the first time a girl had made Karen feel this way, the first time she realized a girl _could_ make her feel this way. The first time she couldn’t believe what her life had been missing. She wasn’t about to let that go.

But sometimes, you don’t have a choice in the matter.

One morning, about four months past when Karen thought she’d skip town, they were awoken by the slam of the front door. Karen felt Melanie stir to life next to her as she opened her eyes and adjusted to the sunlight. “Honey, did you hear that?” she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“Who the hell…” Melanie started, moving to get out of bed to see what was going on. But she was stopped by a new, deep voice coming from the main space downstairs, one that instantly sent chills down Karen’s spine.

“Mel? You awake?”

And just like that, the warm girl Karen had grown to love over the last few months grew ice cold.

“Shit! He wasn’t supposed to come back until next month,” Melanie muttered, more to herself than to Karen. Instantly, she became a blonde blur of motion, unleashing a slew of hushed expletives and racing to get dressed, toss some clothes to a bare naked Karen, and rummage through the drawer of her nightstand until she finally found what she needed to let out her breath in a sigh of relief.

Karen still wasn’t fully awake, but because Lois was gifted one every now and then before ultimately breaking some poor bastard’s heart, she knew the shine of a diamond engagement ring anywhere.

The reality of the situation pounded loud enough in her head to drown out most of the conversation Melanie was having with her fiancé downstairs. But she heard enough of it to get the gist. Melanie passed her off as a cousin needing a place to crash for a few days, that she would be gone soon. She probably thought she was being generous, giving Karen until the end of the week to come up with an exit plan. But she definitely didn’t know Karen well enough to realize that she didn’t need an exit plan.

Karen had a car and enough gas to get her far away from that loft.

She was gone by noon.

There are times now when Karen’s curiosity flares and she wonders what would have happened if they got caught, or if Melanie had been upfront with her at the start. Sometimes she lets the what ifs keep her company. Sometimes she tries to shake them out of her mind immediately. Either way, she knows it wouldn’t have mattered much; her heart would have been shattered no matter what.

Either way, she knows it wouldn’t have changed the fact that she stopped caring to wait for beautiful things to come to her.

When she stopped marking time by her age and started marking it by her husbands, it was defiance. That was what made her feel alive when everything else around her was trying to drain the life out of her. Her first husband saw a diamond in the rough, a woman who could be tamed if only she was surrounded by the right influences. When she became a St. Croix, she became the arm candy of a stiff man who couldn’t stand what he couldn’t control. He would bring her to cocktail hours and charity events and try to cut her off after two glasses of wine, telling her that ladies never drank more than they should. But Karen always thought back to her childhood, how her mother told her that ladies never played with their gum, how she decided that she never wanted to be a lady. And if she didn’t pretend to be a lady for Lois, she sure as hell wasn’t about to pretend to be a lady for a man who thought he could control her. So every time he would try to cut her off, she would always order one more glass, and then another one, more if she was feeling particularly spiteful. It built up her tolerance, and it broke down a man who wasn’t used to being challenged.

It wasn’t the only reason he served divorce papers before they even made it to a year with the same last name. But Karen was sure that defiance was woven into the fabric of his decision. She liked that, in some small way, she won even though it looked like she lost. And she carried that win with her to her next husband.

Mrs. Popeil was meant to be quiet, agreeable, adoring. Karen was never any of those things, and he knew it. He thought he would be able to get her to that place eventually. She thought about how quickly she could disappear to keep eventually from coming, and it put her at ease whenever she was with him. It was obvious from the start that this one wouldn’t last. But it would kill a little time. And if she was going to kill a little time, she might as well have a little fun with it.

He hated her laugh. He never said it out loud, but he never needed to; the little wince he thought he could hide every time she let it slip was all she needed to see. She didn’t see it as a slight; she saw it as an opportunity. A game. Something to count on when the life she fell into began to feel a little too suffocating. It was better when they were in public, better when he had to keep up appearances to colleagues and so-called friends. Someone would make a joke that would almost always fall flat. She would join in on the soft titters of fake laughter that only served to stroke that ego. And then she would slowly amp up the volume until the laugh he hated so damn much became inescapable. She liked watching him, to see how red his face would get, how much he had to twist his features to keep any kind of emotion buried inside of him. She could practically see all the things he wanted to say to her once they had a moment alone racing through his head. But she always knew he would never say them. Because it wouldn’t make a difference; she would always do exactly what she wanted to. And she wanted to do this.

After a while, though, that trick lost its magic the same way gum on a string lost its magic for Gin when they were kids. And there was no reason to keep herself in a home that didn’t really want her. So she left before he had the chance to object, even though she knew he never would.

Maybe it was because the last two marriages left her too weary to be wary, but she thought Stanley Walker would be different. And he was, at least at first. He cared, he listened to what she wanted, what she needed. He tried to make her feel like a queen. He liked it when she got a little loud, a little daring. Nudging him under the table at another boring dinner with his colleagues and their wives. Pulling her dress up above her thigh. Watching him while he brushed his fingers against her skin. Trying not to let on to the sparks they both felt. Basking in the secret they shared. It was the first time in a long time that she felt good about her choices.

But as time went on, she started learning about the secrets he didn’t share with her. The marriage that still wasn’t completely over by the time they met. The two children he would share custody of once that marriage was finally over. The wandering eye he was never able to shake, no matter how hard he said he tried once she caught him. The shady ways he ran his businesses, and the stubborn way he thought he couldn’t be touched. Years ago, any one of those would have been enough for Karen to get in that powder blue Beetle and move on to the next town. But that Beetle was long gone, and time kept proving to her that this was as good as it would ever get. So when he proposed in spite of everything he had done--in spite of everything he would do--the answer came easily.

She was far too tired to even want to try again. It just made more sense to resign herself to this life. It made more sense to stay.

By the time she had the weight of Stan’s ring on her finger for a year, she stopped tracking her life by her favorite things altogether. Because they didn’t change anything. They didn’t steer her to the path she’d ever thought she’d take. They didn’t even steer her to a path she would have happily settled for. They didn’t do anything. So she figured she shouldn’t do anything, either. Stan provided for her, she had everything she could ever think to ask for. On the surface, there was no reason for her to branch out beyond that manse. She was getting so used to doing nothing that it would have easily taken its rightful place as her favorite thing if she still put stock into them. And if she was being honest, she needed the rest that this new phase of her life seemed to give her. She needed a break.

The only problem was that her husband didn’t want to let that fly.

Stan told her she needed to do something, anything. Find a hobby. Occupy her time. And since there were still traces of that defiance inside of her she used to love so much, she convinced herself that the best hobby to show a man who prided himself on making sure his wife never had to work a day in her life was a cute little office job. To this day, she couldn’t tell you why Grace Adler Designs jumped out at her in the classifieds. But the second she walked into that studio, she knew it was where she needed to be. Even when the redhead working at the desk across the room was convinced otherwise.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really do walk-in consults,” she said to Karen. “But I can schedule a time for you to come back, if you like?”

“Whaddya talk?” Karen blurted, brow furrowed trying to figure this girl, this Grace, out. It took a minute to register why she might have thought of Karen as a potential client rather than a potential employee. But when Karen looked down at her Prada, at the way she learned to flaunt the labels, she understood completely. “Oh! No, honey, I’m not here to hire you,” she said with a smile. “I’m here to help you.” And when the girl looked confused, she tried to explain. “I’m Karen Walker. You’re supposed to interview me for the office assistant gig?”

_“You’re_ Karen Walker?” Grace’s jaw practically dropped to the floor, and instantly Karen’s heart sank. She knew that look. It was the look of someone convinced that this was a joke, that _she_ was a joke. Frankly, she thought she was a joke, too; what made her think she should be given a chance here? But just as she was thinking she should race out the door, Grace’s look of surprise curled into a smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just that no one else that’s come in for this job has been so...well dressed.” She pulled the chair from the assistant’s desk to the middle of the studio and motioned for Karen to sit down before grabbing another for herself. “Should we get started?”

The interview was a disaster, even if Grace never let on that it was. Karen knew it was foolish to go into something like this with an expectation of anything good coming out of it. She had no real experience, she couldn’t remember the last time she did an honest day’s work, and it would take too much effort to train her on the most menial parts of the position to make it worth hiring her. Still, Grace heard her out, she kept asking things she had to know Karen would give disappointing answers to. She was a true professional from the first question to the moment she said she’d give Karen a call with her decision. As she got up and started to make her way to the swatch room, Karen could feel her chance slipping away without a real fight to hold onto it. She needed to do something quick. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“You don’t have to pay me!” she said, hoping against hope that it would make Grace turn around. She watched as the redhead froze at the entryway to the swatch room before slowly turning on her heel. Karen felt relief start to wash over her as she took a breath. “I mean, if you need to fill out a couple checks to keep up appearances, so be it. But I wouldn’t ever cash them. I don’t need the money. I just need…” Lord, she knew she sounded desperate. She _was_ desperate. It was the worst color on her, but she knew she was on the verge of exchanging it for something a little more beautiful. “Honey, I just need to do something,” she said, realizing just then how true Stan’s words were when they were wrapped inside her voice. “I need to be somewhere that matters.”

Grace studied her for a moment, her stare scorching Karen’s skin. Probably trying to gauge whether she was serious. Probably trying to gauge whether she was crazy. Probably thinking she was going to regret the decision floating around in her mind. Karen was expecting to be laughed out of the office. Instead, Grace nodded her head and asked her one final question.

“Can you start Monday?”

It was the only question she was asked that day that Karen knew she had the right answer to. She shook Grace’s hand to accept the job, and her nerves let go of her long enough to finally notice the sign that she had landed in the right place.

Because shining against Grace’s skin in the office light was a gold butterfly hanging from the delicate chain around her neck.

It had been years since she thought about the butterflies. They always made her think of her dad, and lately she couldn’t think of him without thinking of how disappointed he certainly would be in where life took her. She couldn’t remember the last time she even believed in signs, but this felt too big to dismiss. This felt like justification for why this job had to be the job, why this girl had to be the girl to change the course of her life (or, at the very least, make this course a little easier to navigate). This felt like relief. This felt like a promise, one that she didn’t know the full extent of but would be kept all the same.

It felt like she was going to be alright.

Grace made no secret out of trying to figure her out. She would start to ask questions she couldn’t finish, before ultimately asking for the dark haired woman’s opinion on some fabric she had in the swatch room like it would reveal something deep; it was a cycle that kept spinning day after day. And Karen loved that she wanted to take the time to put that puzzle together. It had been a long time since someone took a good look at all the pieces, and the redhead always seemed kind enough not to run once she finally saw the whole picture. But Karen didn’t want her to see the whole thing right away; she liked the way Grace looked at her from across the room. Intent and steady, like if she ever looked away, she would miss something important. Laser focused, like she was trying to pierce Karen’s skin to get straight to the heart of the dark haired socialite so willing to stick around for no obvious incentive. Like she was trying to get to the heart of why she picked the dark haired socialite in the first place. Like sooner or later, she would find the door that would open up to a clue that could solve the mystery. And she did find the door, sooner rather than later. Karen just wasn’t expecting all of the things that would be on the other side once her boss unlocked it.

“Did you ever pull at your gum when you were a kid, just to see how long you could make it?” Grace asked her this about a month after she hired her, pulling a stick from her pack and casually studying it like it was something that just came to her even though they both knew it wasn’t. “My sisters and I would have contests all the time. I never won. And then my mom would always tell us that that’s not how ladies act, and it killed the mood, so there were never any rematches.”

Karen was speechless at first, stunned that of all the things she could have used to break the ice once and for all, that was what she landed on. But it worked. Because she wanted to tell Grace everything. How she used to do it to keep Gin from crying during the worst of times. How her mother used to tell her the exact same thing Grace’s mother did. How she never cared what Lois thought about it, because it was something that could bring the tiniest bit of light to the dark. But she barely knew Grace at this point. She didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by unloading the baggage of her past, when this studio wasn’t big enough to fit it all, when she finally found a place she could rest her head. So she went with something that she knew would be safe.

“Well, if that’s not how ladies act, then what’s the point of being a lady?”

It was clearly the puzzle piece that Grace needed to lock in place, so she could start to see the picture of her assistant that had eluded her until now. Karen could see how it loosened her up a bit, like she was finally figuring out how to navigate the dynamic they were trying to set in stone. It let her feel okay to hold up the pack as an offering. “Want one?”

Karen wasn’t about to pass up a chance to solidify a bond. “Sure, hand it over.”

She got up from her desk and walked over to Grace, unwrapping the stick of gum she had been given and slipping it into her mouth. They stayed there for a moment, standing around the redhead’s desk, chewing their gum in relative silence. Until Grace began to pull at her piece, swiftly stretching out her arm until the gum broke in two. “Dammit,” she muttered before putting the broken piece back in her mouth.

Karen couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Cripes, honey. No wonder you always lost,” she joked. “You have to take your time with it. Like this.” And without thinking twice, she started to pull at her own piece, slowly, steadily, the string growing far longer than Grace’s ever could have grown. She was proud of the way Grace’s eyes lit up the further she went, but it wasn’t until her boss’s giggle started to fill the room that she stopped everything, string suspended in the air.

“What?”

Grace’s grin became uncontrollable in an instant. “Nothing, I just never thought I’d see you like this. I like it.”

Karen could feel the blush rise to her cheeks and hoped Grace couldn’t see it. “What, me being disgusting?” she asked as she rushed to put the gum back in her mouth.

“No. You being human.”

She couldn’t believe how sincere Grace sounded, holding it on her tongue like a beautiful truth instead of a hideous insult. She had spent so much of her life around people who believed being human was a weakness, who had walls built so high, it was never worth it to waste energy trying to climb them. But Grace...she had the worst poker face. She wore her heart on her sleeve. If she ever had any walls up, they were demolished a long time ago. She could open doors on a whim and never be intrusive. It made Karen want to break out of the fortress she built around herself.

It made her want to take Grace by the hand and lead her inside that open door.

From that point on, Karen could feel herself start to let her guard down around her. She felt freer. Freer to joke, freer to throw a few quips Grace’s way about the way she dressed and the way she wore her hair, all in good fun. Freer to care about her. Freer to be human. Freer to get close, which, in all honesty, was a godsend. The more time she spent at the office, the less she spent at the manse with Stan. The closer she got to Grace, the more distance there was between her husband and her. His late nights became more frequent. His string of nights sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms grew longer. His wandering eye got far more obvious. It might have devastated her if she wasn’t expecting it. But this was a long time coming. And their marriage always felt like more of an arrangement than anything else. So when she looked at Grace from across the office one day, and she felt something stir inside of her that went beyond the friendship they were slowly starting to forge, she didn’t feel guilty when she let herself swim in it.

It wasn’t like she was ever going to spill her guts to Grace about it. No matter how close they were getting as the months went by, no matter how many times Karen felt like Grace was starting to look at her the same way, they still worked together. She wasn’t about to tell her boss that she was the reason she realized how ridiculous it was to stay with Stan when there was no love there. She wasn’t about to tell her how sometimes, she wanted to race across the office and take her by surprise with a kiss, just to see what she would do. She wasn’t about to tell her that she knew her better than Stan ever would, better than anyone who came before her ever could, and that alone made Karen start to fall. By all accounts, the redhead would never go for someone like her; in the unlucky love stories she had heard in her short time at Grace Adler Designs--and by the suitors who would drop by to take Grace to lunch only to become the subject of another rant when she got back--it was clear to Karen that her boss was stuck in the middle of a sea of terrible men who couldn’t see how special she was. There was no room for a woman who could change everything. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But it didn’t change how Grace reminded Karen of what a girl could make her feel. It just made her wish that someday, Grace might want to know what a girl could make _her_ feel.

And Karen rode that wish straight to the day she decided she had had enough.

It wasn’t that Stan had been looking at another woman while they were shopping; it was that he stopped caring to make the slightest effort to hide it. It was that he stopped caring to keep up appearances in public, when up until now, it was his favorite thing to do. That somehow became the final straw. She was seething when she got to the office for her shift. She didn’t mean for Grace to witness the verbal brawl she was having with him over the phone. But it didn’t much matter who heard; she knew they were done. She knew she was about to be neck deep in divorce papers and pointless negotiations as soon as she said word one to him, slowly drowning before she could get the chance to live without him. But before she could get too far underwater, Grace threw her a life preserver.

To this day, Karen’s not sure how much of that girl’s night invitation was pity and how much was a genuine desire to spend time together outside of the office, but it doesn’t much matter; there was never any doubt that everything that came after was built on desire, on truth, on love. And it all started because Grace asked her to come over. Karen didn’t know why she was nervous (Well. She knew. She just didn’t want to admit it). They were alone together in the office all the time. They knew how to be around each other there. It couldn’t be that hard to figure out how to be around each other in Grace’s apartment. In fact, as they quickly found out, it only took a bottle of cheap tequila and a few beers to do it.

Grace was getting the drinks together when she finally said what Karen had been expecting from the moment she walked into 9C. “So, I know tonight’s supposed to help take your mind off of...you know, whatever,” she started as she finished up cutting the limes for their shots. “But before you get me drunk out of my mind...do you wanna talk about it?”

Lord, Karen wanted to. But she couldn’t stand the thought of bringing Grace down. She couldn’t stand the thought of Stan hovering over this night when what she needed was to forget all about him. Still, Grace was kind enough to ask. So she tried to skate around it as best she could. “I don’t know, honey. You spend your whole life only getting dealt the bad cards in the deck, at some point you have to just give up and realize this is as far as you’re ever gonna go.”

“Well, that’s kinda stupid.”

Karen had never heard Grace be so blunt before. “Why’s that?”

“Because. Once all the bad cards in the deck are gone, you’re left with all the good ones. So why not wait it out?”

Part of her wanted to argue, tell Grace that her bad cards were some of the worst out there and there’s only so much a girl can take before she backs away. But Grace was just so damn sure of herself that it took all the wind out of that fight. And the sight of the redhead bringing their good time into the living room took up enough space in her mind for any kind of debate to be pushed directly out of it. So she waited until Grace poured their first shots before holding up her glass and looking up at her. “You know what? You make a pretty good point.”

Grace’s grin filled her entire face as she took her seat on the couch next to Karen. “See? Aren’t you glad you got me _before_ I kill my brain cells trying to keep up with you?” She handed Karen a lime and sprinkled a little salt on the dark haired woman’s hand. They clinked their glasses, threw their tequila down the hatch, and let their night truly begin.

Silently, Karen toasted the very real chance that Grace was the first good card she was ever dealt.

It was cute, how much of a lightweight Grace was. One shot and half a beer in, and her cheeks were already starting to match her hair. But the tequila kept flowing. And soon enough, she slid from the couch to the hardwood floor in front of the coffee table, insisting it was more comfortable down there. She kept asking Karen to switch clothes until Karen finally gave in. She didn’t seem phased when she started changing in front of Karen, even though Karen was trying to ignore the flutter in her core at the sight of this girl in her underwear. She delighted far too much in being allowed to play with Karen’s hair, grabbing a handful of hair ties from her bathroom before using every single one to pull her assistant’s hair up to her inebriated liking. She wrapped herself in Karen’s coat as she ranted about her disastrous first time with Ira the nurse and listened with wide eyes as Karen told her about Mr. Tyler and his big A+. When Karen slipped and told Grace she loved her--when she tried to say it like it had none of the weight she knew it carried--she said it back with more genuine enthusiasm than Karen could fathom one person ever having about anything. It was the best night Karen had had in a long time.

She couldn’t tell you how they ended up asleep on the couch that night; Karen honestly thought alcohol had lost that kind of effect on her decades ago. But the next thing she knew, she was waking up to the weight of Grace sleeping peacefully on top of her, head resting on Karen’s chest, close enough for Karen to smell her strawberry shampoo. She looked gorgeous. She felt gorgeous. Karen hoped to god that she was a heavy sleeper, because she did not want to lose this feeling, this moment. She knew her best bet was to leave well enough alone, stay still, don’t make a sound, stay awake as long as she could. But maybe she didn’t have to stay still. Maybe if she moved her arm slowly enough, she could rest it against Grace’s back. Maybe if she moved her head slowly enough, she could feel those wildfire locks brush against her cheek. 

But all of those maybes disappeared the second she heard voices on the other side of the front door.

Karen knew Will and Jack were so close to discovering them, and she didn’t want to field the questions they were absolutely going to ask. So before they even got the key in the door, she snapped her eyes shut and pretended to be oblivious to everything around her. But she could hear it all. The door opening, followed by Jack’s surprise at what he just walked in on. And then Jack trying to back out of this place as quickly as he could, _I don’t wanna be here when they wake up._ And then Will saying they could still make last call. And then a door slam. And then a close call averted. Karen didn’t even have a chance to slow down her mind before Grace jolted against her body at the sound of the door, her eyes trying to flutter open against the heaviness of sleep and tequila. Karen thought for sure that Grace would freak out when she woke up a little more and saw who she was on top of. But instead, she cracked a lazy smile. “Morning,” she mumbled.

Karen let a small breathless laugh escape her lips. “Grace, it’s the middle of the night.”

“It is?” she asked, her features crinkled in confusion until she lifted her head enough to see the pitch black sky through the door to the terrace. “Oh.”

Karen didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to end this night. But she wasn’t about to overstay her welcome, either. “Maybe it’s time to get you to bed,” she murmured, daring to brush Grace’s wildfire curls behind her ear.

“Maybe.”

Slowly (reluctantly?) she got up, taking her time as she tried to make her way down the hall. Karen was still wearing Grace’s clothes, Grace was still wrapped in her coat, but it didn’t matter. She could call Driver for a late-night pick up, get her clothes back from the redhead when they went back to work on Monday. Stan wouldn’t be awake to ask questions. She grabbed her purse, digging for her cell phone as she headed towards the front door. And then a voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Where are you going?”

Karen looked up to find Grace staring back at her, and she swore she saw a hint of sadness at the thought of Karen leaving. It nearly threw her off her game, made it so that she could only manage a single word. “Home?”

Grace shook her head. “No, forget that. It’s way too late. Just stay here tonight.”

She heard wrong. She must have. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll find some pajamas for you to wear. The bed’s big enough for the two of us. It’s no problem.” And with that, Grace retreated to her bedroom, expecting Karen to follow. Like it was the only option. Like it was the easiest decision in the world. Maybe it was.

Karen did her best to collect herself after Grace’s surprise invitation, but she could still feel the nerves she didn’t want to admit were there. So she busied herself in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water to bring in to the redhead in a futile attempt to help her stave off a morning hangover. She moved slowly, turning off the lights in the living room, taking careful steps down the hall, stopping for a second at Grace’s door. She took a breath and put on a smile she hoped would mask the butterflies in her core. But when she walked in, she saw Grace completely crashed out on the bed, still in Karen’s clothes, apparently only having enough energy to toss the coat onto her dresser.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief, knowing how much easier it would be to fall asleep without the space to slip up and tell Grace what was in her heart. There were no pajamas laid out for her, but it didn’t matter; the clothes of Grace’s she had on were comfortable enough to sleep in. Karen set the glass of water on the nightstand next to Grace before carefully settling in to the other side of the bed, making sure she didn’t wake up the redhead. She rested her head on the pillow, staring straight up at the ceiling from under the covers, knowing that if she took one look at the girl sleeping next to her, she would want to scoop her up into her arms and keep her safe through the night. And sometime soon after she started to hear the faintest snoring from Grace’s side of the bed, even though she didn’t know how she could, she finally succumbed to slumber, hoping to god she didn’t move too close to Grace in her sleep.

It was the first time in years that she slept through the night. The first time in years that she felt well rested when the sunlight woke her up. The first time in years that she opened her eyes to a new day and felt peace.

The first time in years that that peace instantly turned into nervous fear the moment she realized there was someone resting in her arms.

Karen couldn’t rein in her surprise fast enough to keep her gasp from escaping. She had no idea how this happened. She had woken up in the exact same position she fell asleep in. Hadn’t she? She couldn’t imagine moving around so much in her sleep that she had pulled Grace from the other side of the bed like that; she couldn’t imagine Grace staying asleep through all of that. Unless Grace was the one to make the move. Unless Grace inched closer as the night went on. Unless Grace wanted this.

It was crazy to think that this girl would simply burrow into Karen’s arms without a second thought.

Then again, it was crazy to think a lot of the things that went on last night would happen.

Maybe she should start banking on crazy.

Grace stirred against her as she woke up, and Karen took a fortifying breath to prepare herself for whatever was about to come next. She heard the redhead’s soft groan as she adjusted to the sunlight pouring in through the window, fighting the urge to keep her as close as she possibly could. When Grace lifted her head to look at her, Karen felt the charge of her smile go straight through her. “Good morning,” Grace murmured. “For real this time.”

She didn’t seem scared of the implications of waking up together like this. She didn’t seem upset. If Karen didn’t know any better, it was almost as if she had expected this to happen all along, that it was the natural progression of their friendship. But Karen was still convinced the other shoe was going to drop. “Morning,” she managed, hoping her voice didn’t give her away completely.

Grace studied her with sleepy eyes, making her painfully aware of how awful she must have looked then; she didn’t think to take her makeup off or take her hair down before climbing into bed, and she could only imagine what a night’s worth of sleep did to all of that. If this is what being human felt like, maybe she should start building up that wall again. But just as she was ready to grab the first brick, Grace took a breath and got straight to the point.

“You didn’t kiss me last night,” the redhead pouted. “You should have. I kinda thought you were going to when we woke up on the couch.”

Karen wondered if Grace could feel the way the rhythm of her heart changed in that moment. All those months spent hoping there was a sliver of chance. Hoping that Grace might see Karen in the same light Karen had always seen her sparkle in. If she was being honest, she thought she felt that light start to hit her skin last night, but she dismissed it as a tequila haze that would surely fade by sunrise. She couldn’t believe how happy she was to be wrong. “Honey, you were smashed last night.” And then, once she felt herself get a little bolder. “I can’t start out like that, taking advantage of you when you’ve had all that tequila.”

Grace rested her hand on Karen’s chest, glowing over the way the dark haired woman’s heart beat against her fingertips. “Well...I’m not smashed now,” she whispered, leaning in to within an inch of Karen’s lips, waiting.

It was an invitation. It was a dare. It was a dream come true. Karen hesitated at first, waiting to be let in on a joke she wasn’t entirely sure was being told. But Grace just stayed there, eyes locked on hers, patient and warm. And she knew it was the most gorgeous green light she would ever see in her life. So she lifted her head off of her pillow and met Grace’s lips in a kiss so gentle, she would have sworn she dreamt it.

That was, if it hadn’t been for the way Grace kissed her back.

There was an urgency in the redhead’s lips that melted Karen, like she was making up for seven months’ worth of lost time. Like she had been harboring this all along and she was scared the permission to finally let it out could be taken away any second. Like all of the feelings Karen had been trying to keep below the surface were bottled up inside of her, too, flooding her senses when they were finally unleashed. Karen had been so careful not to shatter the dream when she first brushed her lips against Grace’s. But you couldn’t shatter a dream that had made its way into your reality. So when she held Grace closer, it didn’t make her disappear. When she dared to let her tongue collide with Grace’s, it made her sigh instead of stop. When Grace finally broke the kiss, it wasn’t to bring Karen down from this high; it was to take her higher.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a _while,”_ Grace murmured breathlessly.

“Oh, Gracie...you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” Karen replied, stunned that such a loaded sentiment felt so weightless on her tongue.

It was extraordinary, the way they found themselves on the same page, the way they started writing their new chapter so effortlessly. After letting so much time pass by on nothing, Karen finally felt like she was on the brink of having everything; part of her even felt like she already got it. That feeling became her favorite thing, the first one she could point to in years.

And now, two years after their first kiss, it’s still this. It’s loving Grace. Knowing she has Grace. Knowing that all of her mistakes--the ones she could control and the ones she couldn’t--led her here. Taking in the glory of where all that losing landed her when she finally won. Thinking back on all of the ways she used to mark time, all of those favorite things that kept her company while she waited for the one she was always meant to have. She does this on nights when she can’t sleep and doesn’t want her tossing and turning to wake up her girlfriend; she’ll go to the balcony of the home she moved into after divorcing Stan, or to the terrace at 9C like she does tonight, to get a little air and lose herself in her memories. She usually doesn’t spend too much time on the early things; thinking about her family, her ex-girlfriend, her husbands is still too hard, but she knows how important they are to her story. She knows how they led her to Grace. And she loves thinking about Grace, the girl who embraces all of Karen’s old favorite things and breathes new life into them, like she found her impossible checklist before they even met, filled with all the things Karen loved. Like she checked off gold butterflies and gum on a string and began waiting for the perfect time to start checking off the others.

She thinks about the first date where Grace insisted on picking the place, a couple months into their relationship. How Grace dragged her to a karaoke spot in the East Village because she couldn’t stop thinking about the way Karen looked in her clothes during tequila night, and she wanted to see what other fish out of water scenarios she could drop her new girlfriend into. Grace rented a private room, she kept the wine flowing. She grabbed the microphone after she had a good amount of Pinot Grigio in her system and started scream singing “Just Like Heaven” like she was determined to find out just how soundproof that room was as she pleaded with Karen to show her, show her, show her how she did that trick. And when she wasn’t being coerced into taking the mic herself, Karen spent the night knocking back one glass after another, her laughter building until it matched Grace’s volume. The wine tasted better then, and her laugh sounded lighter. Because this time, she wasn’t drinking and laughing to defy one of her husbands. This time, she didn’t need defiance to have a good time.

This time, the drinking and laughing didn’t deter the one she promised herself to from saying she loved her.

She thinks about the dinners they’ve had with Will and Jack, before and after they eventually told the boys everything. How in the beginning, she thought they would ask questions about how they always made sure they sat next to each other, to make sure they kept each other close. But the guys never said a word. And the girls wanted to see how far they could take it. Karen never expected Grace to be the one to start it. After that first kiss, Karen got a little bolder with her, dared to make moves that seemed so right now that she knew she had Grace’s heart, and Grace never seemed to mind letting her take the driver’s seat. But one night early on in their relationship, in a restaurant Stan used to take her to and in the middle of a dinner she knew she’d end up footing the bill for, Grace nudged her under the table. She glanced over at the redhead, following her gaze down to her thigh, where she had hiked her skirt up. And as her fingers brushed Grace’s skin, she tried her best to bite down on her smile and hide the thrill in her eyes that would surely give them away. From then on, it was their favorite game, to see which one would start it, to see how long they could go without anyone noticing, to figure out how they could excuse themselves from the table without raising eyebrows. It was everything she hoped she could hold with Stan, but better. Because she actually loved the girl inviting her to touch.

Two years later, and it still hasn’t gotten old, no matter whose skirt is being raised under the table. Karen hopes it never will.

She thinks about the first time they went away together. She had gotten the cabin in Vermont in the divorce, and she waited until a slow week at work to convince Grace they needed a vacation (“Karen, I can’t just take off in the middle of the week.” “Gracie, you’re the boss. You can do whatever the hell you want.”). She rented a car and insisted she drive them up there, making Grace a little nervous; up until now, Grace had only known Karen to be chauffeured around Manhattan by Driver, and had no reason to have any sort of faith in how the dark haired woman handled herself behind the wheel. But she got in the passenger’s seat anyway. And they took off. It was incredible how that old exhilaration came back full force from the days when Karen would get in her car at sixteen, speed away from her mother, and know freedom. And it was incredible how brilliant this exhilaration felt when it could be shared with someone. Singing along to the radio, talking and laughing about everything and nothing once it turned to static. Making a six hour drive pass by like nothing. Knowing that she could take Grace anywhere. Knowing that they could be free, whenever they wanted to be.

Sure, that rental car was no powder blue Beetle. But it served its purpose just fine.

She thinks about the way Grace kisses her. Like it’s a revelation every time. Like they would both turn to dust if they ever pulled away. Like she couldn’t get enough of the way a girl could make her feel. Like she’s giving her entire being to Karen whenever their lips meet. Like Karen’s lips are the only ones she will ever need. Like she’s telling the truth. That’s always been the difference between the way Melanie kissed her and the way Grace does: the truth.

The truth is a beautiful thing.

She thinks about all of this, all of the things that make up this life of hers. This life that is in no way the one she thought she’d have. But there are no regrets. Because she knows that none of the other paths she could have possibly taken would have led to a better one.

She knows she’s finally alright.

“There you are.”

Karen jolts back into reality as she turns around to see Grace at the terrace door, a small, sleepy smile across her face as she wraps her robe tighter around her to fight the chill of a surprisingly cold April night, and moves towards her girlfriend.

“Honey, what are you doing up?” she asks, reaching out for her redhead. “It’s late.”

Grace shrugs before she burrows into Karen’s arms. “The bed felt bigger without you,” she says, staring out towards the Hudson. “I can’t sleep when the bed feels bigger.” She wraps her arms around Karen’s waist, and in that motion, Karen feels hope. Not the fleeting kind, like the kind Melanie proved to offer. Not the kind that could be buried into obscurity, like the kind her parade of husbands made disappear. But the kind that lasted, the kind that didn’t even need to be spoken into existence to fill the air. “You okay?”

Karen buries her kiss in Grace’s curls, letting herself linger at the crown of her head for a moment. “Yeah. I’m okay,” she murmurs, and it’s amazing how true it is, how true it’s been these last two years. “I just didn’t want to wake you.”

“I don’t mind being woken up when you’re the one doing it.” They stay there for a beat, taking in the relative quiet of the Upper West Side this late at night. “But maybe we can be awake someplace a little warmer.” Grace gives Karen’s waist a little squeeze and tries to guide her back to the terrace door. “Come on, come back to bed. I’ll keep you company.”

Karen doesn’t put up a fight; she wouldn’t even if she could. She’d follow Grace to the ends of the earth and back again, and she knows that Grace knows it.

She has to admit it: she likes it that way.

Grace takes her by the hand and leads her inside, and Karen’s already warming up from the contact before they step foot in the apartment. Because it feels like home every time she feels her girl’s hold on her. Nothing ever quite felt like home before, because nothing ever quite felt permanent before. But this does. Grace does. Every time Grace jokes about how Karen’s stuck with her, every time she promises she’s never going anywhere, she knows there should be a part of her that tells her not to put too much stock in those words. But when Grace opened the door two years ago, it shined a light on the part of Karen that held her hope, her trust. And now, as Grace leads her to the bed, as they climb in and turn to face each other, she is overwhelmed by that hope, by that trust. She is overwhelmed by this home.

“What were you thinking about out there?” Grace asks quietly.

Karen could dismiss it and tell her not to worry about it. She could joke and send her girl to bed with a laugh. But she feels her voice start to wrap around the truth, and she doesn’t want to fight it. “You,” she says, taking Grace’s hand in hers, planting a kiss to her palm. “How lucky I was to find the path that would lead me to you.”

Grace inches closer to her, resting her forehead against Karen’s like she’s trying to keep the sentiment between them; it’s the kind of vulnerable honesty they’re both still getting used to when they hear it in Karen’s lilt. She lets it float in the air for a moment before she smirks. “Okay, fine, don’t tell me,” she says in the kind-hearted joking way Karen loves so much, the one that makes it safe for her to be so genuine. And before Karen can say anything else, Grace brushes her lips against the dark haired woman’s like she wants to feel Karen’s laugh in their kiss.

They lay there, engrossed in tired ramblings until Karen sees the way Grace tries to fight the way sleep is pulling at her eyes. She tells Grace that she can let herself rest if she wants to, and even though Grace protests at first, Karen can tell she’s finding it harder and harder to say no to that. So she lets herself go. But it’s okay; they have tomorrow to pick up the conversation. With Grace, there will always be a tomorrow.

When Karen was little, her dad used to tell her that it took time for beautiful things to come to you.

She looks at Grace falling back asleep and gently runs her fingers through her wildfire curls.

And she knows with everything she has that he was right all along. 


End file.
